


Warm Hands and Warm Hearts

by SusanTheHorseDW



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - In Your Heart Shall Burn, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanTheHorseDW/pseuds/SusanTheHorseDW
Summary: Ashaia Lavellan extends a simple offer of warmth to Josephine as the Inquisition attempts to survive the cold nights in the Frostback Mountains. But nothing is ever as simple as it seems.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Female Lavellan/Josephine Montilyet
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Warm Hands and Warm Hearts

It was cold. 

But that did not need to be said, everybody knew that.

The chill had seeped into the bones of Haven’s survivors and settled like a weight over them as what remained of the Inquisition traveled through the Frostbacks. The hunters had done well in providing the displaced Inquisition with new pelts to make blankets, but those could only do so much. And as the night settled the mountain air turned painful. 

Tonight was no exception. The wind had picked up and stolen the air right out of Ashaia’s lungs. She shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders as she walked towards the outer parts of camp. 

The second day of hiking through the Frostbacks a woman had approached timidly and handed her the cloak. When Ashaia tried to refuse (she _did not_ need special treatment) the woman had shakily explained that it was her brother’s. He had perished at Haven fighting by Ashaia’s side. “Please,” she had pleaded, shoving the heavy cloak into Ashaia’s hands, who stood there in shock. “He fought for a reason. He fought for you. Thomas would want you to have it.” Ashaia could not deny the woman a little peace of mind, and so she took it with a muttered thank you, too caught up in surprise to provide any of the comforting words the woman may have been looking for. But she hoped, due to the small smile she received later on from the woman when she saw Ashaia wearing it, that it was enough.

 _Thomas_. Just a name now, like so many others. She shook her head in frustration. She will make the sacrifice worth it. She had to.

She reached the edge of camp just as a particularly strong gust of wind rolled over her, having none of the camp to dampen it. She braced against it and winced, her injured ribs twinging at the action. 

She should go back to her tent. As much as she put on a brave face, she was still healing from her encounter with the Elder One. She knew she needed to rest. But sleeping meant nightmares that shook her awake, sweaty and gasping for air. So she resigned herself to wandering the camp, trying to shake the images that flickered behind her closed eyes. 

“Everything alright, Herald?” A guard at the edge of camp had noticed her. 

“Yes, thank you,” she nodded, avoiding eye contact and walking away, knowing the worship she would see there.

Ever since surviving the attack on Haven, people seemed to look at her with a reverence that unsettled her. They had already given her their Andrastian title that had so many high standards attached to it. But now, they looked at her as if the very words she said were holy. 

_Creators_ , she missed her clan. 

She saw a familiar figure huddled by one of the large fires they kept burning, sitting close enough she had to be sweating. 

“Ambassador?” Ashaia asked as she walked up to the fire, warming her hands over it.

“Oh!” Josephine jumped, bringing her hand to her chest in fright. “My Lady, you startled me!” she breathed out, slightly embarrassed.

Ashaia chuckled. “My apologies, Ambassador, I did not mean to.” She looked her over. They had scrounged together some clothes more fitting for the cold than what her usual outfit provided. Here appearances hardly mattered, despite what some of the nobles trapped with them insisted. The only importance was survival. 

Josephine had taken the mismatched outfit in stride, seeming to fuss more over the fact that accommodations were being made than the actual clothing. When she had emerged from her tent covered in furs, Leliana had let out a delighted laugh, jesting that Ferelden looked good on Josie. Privately, Ashaia had agreed. Not that she would ever say so, but she was quite certain that Josephine could outshine a room while even in the shabbiest of clothing. 

Still, despite the furs, she looked two seconds away from jumping straight into the fire to get warm. 

“Ambassador, surely you would be warmer in your tent?” she inquired. 

Josephine huffed, a sound of tired frustration. “ You would think, wouldn’t you? But I seem to be unable to get warm, so I had hoped the fire might help.” She leaned closer to the heat, pulling the thin blanket she had tighter around her shoulders. 

Ashaia hesitated, not wanting to step over some unknown social boundary, before she walked over and gently draped her cloak over Josephine and then stepped back towards the fire. The Ambassador startled at the sudden weight on her shoulders but sagged into the warmth it provided. 

“My Lady, I can not accept this, you are going to freeze!” Josephine looked at her with clear concern. 

And Ashaia _was_ cold, she would admit that to herself. As soon as she took off the cloak the cold nearly knocked her over. She shut her eyes briefly against the sudden onslaught of memories the biting cold brought on. But she knew she was not stumbling out of Haven, injured and afraid. She was alive. She was safe. Yes, they were stuck in the mountains, but she was not alone. “I will be alright Josephine. After Haven this is nothing, do not worry for me,” she reassured. 

The Ambassador huffed. “I--well if you are sure. Thank you My Lady, I appreciate this. It is certainly warm,” she said, snuggling further into the cloak with a contented sigh.

“If you would like, in the morning I can go check the stores to see if there are any more of the new pelts?” She offered. “I know they were already distributed, but there may be extra.” 

Josephine sat up at that. “No!” She looked startled at her own tone, and lowered her voice. “No, it is alright, those are more important elsewhere, I will be fine.” She sighed.

“Josephine, we can not have you up all night due to the cold,” Ashaia implored. “They can spare a blanket from our stores for our Ambassador.”

But Josephine shook her head, standing her ground. “I appreciate your concern, My Lady. However, with our current situation being as it is, those blankets are much better suited going to the essential workers keeping us alive. Out here, I can do quite little, and as such I should not be a priority.” 

Ashaia sighed. The Ambassador always managed to be so polite while being stubborn. She didn’t know how Josephine always managed to pull it off. But it was something Ashaia respected and appreciated about her. However, this was self sacrificing, and there was no reason for it. If that was something others had also told Ashaia recently, well, she would overlook that fact.

She watched the Ambassador, who seemed to be making a rare attempt at avoiding eye contact. Josephine always took her problems head on so why was she being avoidant? Her eyes landed back on the blanket that peaked out from under the cloak. Oh. _She did not._

“You gave your blankets away, didn’t you?” Ashaia accused, watching from the corner of her eye.

Josephine stared resolutely into the fire. “I do not know what you are accusing, Herald.”

Ashaia bristled at the use of that title. Josephine knew she was not fond of the Andrastian label, and in private situations like this was kind enough to avoid using it. But now she was trying to distract her, and Ashaia would not fall for such actions. 

“That’s why you are out here, shivering by the fire, is it not?” She pushed. “If that is not the case, then why are you currently wrapped in one of the shoddy original blankets we had, and not the new ones that the hunters worked so hard to get us?” She was being sharp, but _fen’harel’s ass,_ of course Josephine would quietly do something so frustratingly kind. 

Josephine huffed, giving up the ruse. “As I already stated, the blankets will do more good elsewhere. Please do not worry for me.”

“And what if you get sick from the chill?” Ashaia retorted, turning her sharp glare from the fire onto the Ambassador. “We already do not have enough supplies for the ill, what good would you be doing if you further hindered our supplies?” Immediately she regretted her harsh tone. Josephine flushed and looked away. _Fenhendis,_ why must she always be so miserable at social situations. 

She walked over and sat on the log next to Josephine, taking a moment to think through her words. She mulled over her thoughts and looked out over the makeshift camp. Torches were scattered about the area and casting dramatic shadows that flickered against the tents. Distantly she could hear the rattle of armor that signaled a change of guard.

“You believe you are not of use, but I have watched as you assisted the cooks, sewn up tears in supplies, and helped bring gear to our posted soldiers,” she said softly, turning her gaze back onto the fire. Always softly with Josephine. If her brother could see her now, melting for a shem, she would not hear the end of it. “Yes, there is no ambassador work to do out here, but you have carried your weight just as well as the rest of us, Josephine. Do not undervalue yourself.” 

The Ambassador sagged. “This...is not my element, as you can probably guess.”

“Ambassador, if you know of somebody that is in their element out here, please introduce us,” she said dryly, bumping her shoulder against Josephine’s gently. 

Josephine laughed. “I suppose you are right, My Lady.”

“So it’s settled then. Tomorrow you will go and get your earned share of blankets, yes?” 

Josephine stared at her, seeming to search her eyes for something. Ashaia looked right back, letting her find whatever she needed to. Eventually Josephine nodded, a soft smile spreading across her face. And _oh,_ that look directed at Ashaia had her warming against the chill of the night. 

“I suppose so, yes,” Josephine quietly accepted. 

Ashaia smiled. “Good, now for tonight we can share blankets, I do not mind,” she declared, nodding decisively.

Josephine’s eyes widened, and Ashaia was reminded of a skittish halla.

“My Lady I cannot possibly accept that!” Josephine rushed out. “I refuse to impose on you like that! Not to mention I cannot do something so...improper, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.” She shook her head resolutely. “I will be okay for tonight, I assure you.”

“Ambassador, we have already established that you are assuredly not okay,” she said pointedly. “I truly do not mind, I am accustomed to sharing warmth, it was a common practice in my clan. I do not have such silly hold ups that shems have,” Ashaia grumbled. _Honestly,_ shems had so many odd unsaid rules, they made their lives unnecessarily complicated. 

Josephine still had a slightly scandalized look. “Be that as it may, I must refuse your offer.”

The fire crackled and Ashaia leaned towards it. She sighed as the warmth washed over her and dampened her frustration at such stubbornness. She was not used to feeling any ire towards the Ambassador, but before this she had also not encountered Josephine refusing to take care of herself. Yes, she overworked herself, but she usually knew where to draw the line, unlike Cullen or Leliana.

Ashaia smirked, having realized a way to end this. “Josephine, if you continue to be so stubborn, I am afraid I will have to bring Leliana into this.”

Josephine gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t!” She looked at Lavellan with a desperate look, and Ashaia knew she had won.

“I absolutely would.” she assured. She was not lying. She knew that if she teamed up with Leliana, Josephine would have no chance against them. 

Josephine glared at her, obviously looking for any way out of the situation. She slumped after a moment. 

“Well then My Lady, lead the way.” she acquiesced. She used the same tone she used when discussing the antics of Iron Bull or Sera, exasperation clear in her voice.

“Thank you Josephine,” Ashaia said kindly as she rose from the bench, offering a hand up, which Josephine delicately took.

As Ashaia stepped away from the fire the cold hit her. Without her cloak she could not hold back the slight shiver that shook her. She hoped Josephine did not notice as she picked up speed to head back to her tent.

They walked the length of camp in silence, which Ashaia was glad for. She could not be sure that she could keep her teeth from chattering if she talked. She stepped into the tent and held open the flap for Josephine, who stepped in with a muttered “thank you.” 

The tent was small, and the space was cramped with two people in it. Her pile of blankets were strewn throughout the small area, tossed off with haste when Ashaia had woken from her nightmare. She realized in her need to get out she had also left a candle burning, and it put off a soft light that barely lit up the tent.

Ashaia felt awkward, shifting from foot to foot for a moment as she suddenly became tongue-tied. In an attempt to avoid saying anything she would regret, she turned her back abruptly to Josephine and started stripping off her outer clothing. She heard a quiet sound of surprise behind her, but after a moment there was the rustle of layers falling to the floor. 

This was different from her clan she suddenly realized. Back home, when they slept in a group for warmth, it was a dog pile of elves. They all curled up together and where one body started and the other ended nobody could be sure. But this was not that. This was intimate, and as she slowly settled down into her blankets she chanced a look up at Josephine and she could not breathe. 

Josephine had her back to her as she folded up Ashaia’s cloak. Her hair, so often up in an elaborate hairdo, fell gently over her shoulders. She had on a mismatched base layer that clearly had not been sized for her. Her tunic fell loosely off one shoulder and exposed more skin than Ashaia had any right to see. The single burning candle cast a glow on Josephine, softening her curves. She looked ethereal, and Ashaia felt powerless against her pull. She yanked her eyes away, fumbling with her blankets and arranging them into a more orderly pile to crawl under. 

As she shuffled under her pile of blankets, Ashaia realized she should have had Josephine grab her bedroll so they did not have to share. She rolled over to make room and then glanced at Josephine. She seemed to be analyzing the situation, looking nearly as flustered as Ashaia felt. She held up the other end of the blankets, wordlessly inviting Josephine.

After a moment, Josephine blew out the candle and silently knelt down to get under the blankets, huffing as she tried to scoot onto the bed roll. From the annoyed sigh, Ashaia guessed she was not successful. 

“Ah, here let me-”

“Oh hold on, if I just-”

They both shifted around in the dark trying to make room, and then all at once Ashaia had an armful of Ambassador, and she jerked, making sure her injured ribs were not impacted. After a moment, Josephine’s back carefully pressed against her front and Ashaia’s arm that was holding up the blanket hung awkwardly in the air, unsure of where to put it. 

Josephine chuckled tensely. “For somebody that claims to have done this often, you sure seem out of practice.” Josephine reached up and carefully pulled the dangling arm down to wrap around her, and quietly tucked the blankets securely around the pair.

Ashaia sucked in a breath, trying to steady her heartbeat. Josephine was soft beneath her arm and she laid there stiffly, scared to move. 

“Is this suitable, My Lady?” Josephine softly asked. 

“It is,” Ashaia whispered against Josephine’s back. “Ambassador, surely we can forgo titles at this moment, I assure you I will not feel disrespected.”

Josephine hummed, and Ashaia felt it reverberate throughout her body. “I suppose we could.” She paused, and Ashaia thought she was not going to continue before she felt a sigh. “Ashaia, why were you out so late tonight? You are still healing, you should not wander in the cold.”

And here, under the cover of darkness, Ashaia did not think she could lie. She was already too vulnerable, her walls torn down without her noticing, and she could not find it in herself to yank them back up. 

“I close my eyes and all I see is Haven burning, all I hear are the cries of the fallen,” she murmured, staring into the darkness where she knew Josephine's head was. “As you can guess, that does not bode well for a good night's sleep.” 

“Yes, I imagine so.” Josephine shifted, and then there was a soft hand on top of hers. Ashaia tensed for a moment before she forced her muscles to relax again. She felt compromised, and once again was reminded of just how _different_ this was from her earlier assumption of this being like it was with her clan.

“Ashaia, you did everything you could,” Josephine whispered. 

“You can not be sure of such a thing, Josephine.” She replayed that night in her head every night, and “what-ifs” rattled around in her head at all times.

“I am quite sure of that actually,” the Ambassador insisted. Ashaia could not see her face, but there was a fierceness to her voice that did not leave room for debate. “There are many things we are unsure of at this point, but none of us question the fact that if you had not been there, many more of us would have died. You did everything you could, I would gladly testify on that fact in front of the Empress herself.” 

Ashaia breathed deep, shaking down any continued rebuttals. She could not win a debate against Josephine, nor did she want to. 

“Thank you Josephine.” she mumbled. “Are you warm enough now?” With Josephine tucked against her, she was the warmest she had been since Haven. She was ignoring the warmth in her chest that had nothing to with the shared body heat and everything to do with the specific person she was sharing it with. 

Josephine hummed happily. “I will concede that you were right, I am quite warm, thank you.” She gently patted her hand before pulling away, and Ashaia could not help but mourn the loss.

“I am glad.” she said, unable to stifle a yawn. “Good night Josephine.” 

“Good night, Ashaia,” Josephine breathed out. She shifted, settling more into Ashaia’s embrace.

And as Ashaia laid there listening to the quiet breaths of the Ambassador slowly even out, she felt herself teetering on the edge of something unknown. What she was feeling was new and that terrified her. This was more than fondness. It meant more than friendship to her, and she didn’t know what to do with that new information.

Yet despite her racing mind, she could feel herself relaxing. Here, in the dark with her arms wrapped around another, she felt safe. As she slipped into sleep, she did not fight it, and for the first time since she stared down Corypheus, she did not dream. 

She woke to an empty bedroll, but the warmth from the night before did not leave. Instead, it increased with every soft smile and lilting laugh she witnessed.

 _Creators_ , what had she gotten herself into?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a trope prompt for "huddling for warmth." Managed to combine that with bed(roll) sharing, so I will call this an accomplishment. You can find Ashaia over on my [tumblr](https://josieofantiva.tumblr.com/post/620704681867476992).


End file.
